


the view

by cascountsdeansfreckles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, In Love, M/M, Stargazing, but thats ok, cas loves him, dean is still working on his whole thing, idk i cant tag rn sorry, just insufferable fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:27:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22794754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cascountsdeansfreckles/pseuds/cascountsdeansfreckles
Summary: “Dean?” His voice is rough from sleep. “We’re not at the bunker,” he mutters, their surroundings coming into focus. They’re in the middle of nowhere. The trees aren’t nearly as thick as they had been, giving them a clear view of--of the stars.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 64





	the view

**Author's Note:**

> i posted this without editing in a coffee shop so please if there are any stupid mistakes point them out in the comments and ill edit. ill update STRMB soon i promise. love you guys as always.

Cas smiles to himself as Dean turns the music up a little, singing under his breath and tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. This thing between them, it’s new. Fragile. The feelings are old, sure. They’ve aged and grown together. But the acknowledgment, the acceptance, the idea that he can allow himself to reach over right now and grab Dean’s hand, that is brand new. He’s afraid to break it. Afraid that just as his fingers close around Dean’s, the hunter will pull away. They’ve had less and managed to lose it before. Doors have slammed, walls have come up, and they’ve lost each other. But even as that fear sits in his stomach, there’s a bigger feeling that overpowers it every time.

Cas is in love. And it makes him brave. It makes him push that fear even farther down and reach for Dean’s hand. It makes him glow when Dean tenses for only a second before allowing their fingers to interlace, shooting Cas a small smile. Cas knows it’s probably even scarier for Dean. He still checks his surroundings before looping an arm around Castiel’s waist, still shifts almost imperceptibly away from him when Sam walks in for movie night. He’s been denying himself this truth his whole life, washing it down with women and booze until he couldn’t take it anymore. Cas can’t blame him for needing a bit of a transition period. But in moments like this, Dean is in his element. They’re alone, driving around aimlessly around until they feel like stopping, and there’s no questioning gaze resting on their hands. As though remembering this fact for himself, Dean raises them to his lips and presses a soft kiss to the back of Cas’s hand. He’s still singing softly, and his breath spills out and over Cas’s skin warmly.

Cas squeezes their hands and looks out the window again. The sun has already set. Their path is only lit by the occasional street light and Baby’s headlights. The dark takes away the harshness of the real world, shadows moving languidly across the wooded land; he imagines that the trees are dancing. Eventually, the peaceful view mixed with Dean’s soft voice and the gentle hum of Baby’s engine lulls him to sleep. He doesn’t wake up as Dean pulls to the end of a road and turns off the car, barely stirs when he gets out of the car and begins digging in the trunk. It isn’t until there’s a gentle hand on his shoulder and a familiar voice coaxing him awake that he blinks groggily and forces himself to look around.

“Dean?” His voice is rough from sleep. “We’re not at the bunker,” he mutters, their surroundings coming into focus. They’re in the middle of nowhere. The trees aren’t nearly as thick as they had been, giving them a clear view of--of the stars.

“No, we’re not. Come on.” He takes the hand that Dean offers him and allows himself to be pulled from the car. Without the roof of the car concealing the whole sky from him, he loses his breath. He’s never seen them this bright. Each one twinkles down at him, as though there are houses up in Heaven with a warm light shining through their windows. Dean gestures at the blanket that he has laid out in front of the car. Baby’s headlights continue to spill out over the landscape so they can see enough to make their way to it. “It’s not much,” Dean says softly, rubbing at the back of his neck with his free hand. Cas knows that if it were daytime he’d be able to see the self-conscious blush spreading from his neck to his cheeks.

“It’s beautiful, Dean,” he assures him, taking the lead and plopping down roughly onto the blanket, tugging Dean down with him. He lays back, his shoes going over the edge of the blanket and scraping against the road. He doesn’t care. “Look at that.” He raises his hand as Dean lays on his back next to him.

“They’re so bright all the way out here.” They’re close enough together that their arms press against each other and all Cas has to do is reach his pinky out for Dean to open his whole hand and link them once again.

“I remember when half of these constellations didn’t even exist,” he tells Dean. “There,” he gestures at Ophiuchus, “and there,” he points out another one, and then another. “You had no idea how much was out there.” Dean doesn’t say anything, just turns on his side and stares at Cas. He instantly squirms under the attention, refusing to move his gaze from the sky. “You’re missing the view,” he mutters, hoping to distract Dean from himself.

“Am I? I feel like I have a pretty good view right here.”

His mouth goes dry and he feels emotion rising in his chest before he can help it. It’s intense, especially for an angel to handle.

“Shut up,” is all he can manage, still refusing to turn his head. “Look, there’s--” Dean lowers his raised hand and laughs under his breath.

“The Little Dipper,” he finishes for him without even looking. Finally, Cas has to look at him in surprise. “Sam and I have spent a lot of nights out on the road. When he was little, I had to talk him to sleep. You pick up on stuff.” His face is thrown into shadow from the headlights, but Cas can see enough to reach over and trace a finger under his eye lightly.

I love you, he wants to say. I love you so bad that I can’t breathe and I can’t believe that I have you now.

Instead, he lets his hand hang in the air for a moment before dropping it, turning on his side so that they’re facing each other.

“Thank you for bringing me here.” He wonders if Dean can hear the unspoken sentiment in his words. He hopes so.

“Anything for you,” Dean responds so quietly that Cas thinks he might’ve imagined it. Cas swallows the words again. Dean isn’t ready to hear them. He knows it. He sure as hell isn’t ready to say them back. But he’s willing to wait. He’s willing to wait for eons. He already feels like his whole life up until they met was just him waiting for Dean. They fall into a comfortable silence, both of them forgetting the stars and taking in each other instead. They share the same air, so close together that Cas can feel a strand of Dean’s hair against his forehead. It tickles, but he doesn’t care.

Cas is in love.


End file.
